


Souls Aflame

by skargasm



Series: Souls Aflame [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Fanart, Fluff and Humor, Fun, Good Alpha Talia Hale, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29878821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: Tired of how meaningless his working life has become – being a defence attorney is proving to befartoo easy – Peter Hale is wondering what to do with himself. A fire that almost kills his whole family makes him realise that his calling in life is to help other people! An unexpected friendship and a chance encounter with his soul-mate that leaves him searching for the person meant to complete his life makes things so much more interesting than they had been before!
Relationships: Chris Argent/Derek Hale, Cora Hale/Lydia Martin, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Series: Souls Aflame [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196717
Comments: 130
Kudos: 182





	1. Fire and Sparks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TummySassAndAss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TummySassAndAss/gifts), [mephistopholes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mephistopholes/gifts), [Burningchaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burningchaos/gifts).



> Oh, look, it's another WiP! I was planning on getting back to 50 Shades of Hale but found myself working on banners for this fic instead! I don't think this one is going to be long - or anywhere near as dark/angsty as the previous one, so I hope you enjoy the ride!
> 
> With heartfelt thanks to Tummysassandass who gave me this prompt late last year and waited patiently for my Muse to catch up! Sending you mega hugs and kisses honey!
> 
> To Mephistopholes - heart your face honey!
> 
> * * *

Winning the case had been nice – even the Partners at the firm had thought it was unwinnable – but Peter couldn’t help but feel a sense of ennui. He was good at his job – excellent in fact – but there was very little satisfaction in it. Especially when it meant frequent visits to the city and missing time with the pack. Talia had been making rumblings about hosting another ‘Soul Meet’ in an attempt to a) find Peter his mate, and b) make him settle down and be more _present_. 

He was frustrated because a part of him would like to meet his mate, yet another part wasn’t sure he was ready. Settling down sounded so – boring. 

The drive back to the Hale Compound was so familiar that he barely paid attention, steering the Ford Cobra Shelby easily around the empty streets of Beacon Hills and towards the Preserve. Driving onto the beginning of the private road that led to the Hale house, he realised that he could see more clearly than he should be able to and began to pay attention to his surroundings. Everything within him tensed, realising the night sky was alight and that he could hear vehicles that shouldn’t be there.

By the time he made his way to the courtyard, he could already see that the house was ablaze. It took all of his control not to wolf out completely, claws digging into the steering wheel as he parked haphazardly next to the two fire engines that were in the courtyard. 

Leaping out of the car, he ran forward, seeing fire trucks and an ambulance, as well as members of law enforcement. The left side of the house was nothing but a roaring flame, and he couldn’t scent his family anywhere, panic making his eyes flare blue as he stared around the scene, trying to make sense of things.

Firemen were running in and out of the building, hoses flooding it with water, the whole scene organised chaos.

“You can’t park there!” a voice said next to him and he turned to glare at the speaker who took a step back. “Listen, this is an active – “

“This is my home! Where are my family?” Peter bit out, barely restraining himself from shouting.

“Sir – I’m sorry but – “

“PETER!” The sound of Talia’s voice sent a wave of relief flooding through him and he turned and rushed towards her as she ran at him, grabbing her into his arms and squeezing tightly. “The kids are over there – we all managed to get out but – “

“What the hell happened?”

“Peter, I need you to stay calm – “

“Ma’am, we’re going to need you and the gentleman to step back!” One of the firemen tried to guide Peter and Talia further away from the building, but Peter growled, shoving the guiding arm away.

“Get your hands off me!” The fireman didn’t retreat, standing firm and Peter took in who it was. “You!”

“Listen, Mr Hale – “ 

“If your family had anything to do with this – “ Christopher Argent continued trying to guide Talia and Peter away from the building, his face set in a grim mask. 

“I don’t know if that is the case – but in the meantime, we really need **all** of you to stand back. Let us do our job – there might be wolfsbane or other contaminants and we really – “

“Like you’d give a shit if there was mountain ash – “

“Peter – he’s trying to help!” From behind him, he felt the presence of the rest of his pack and he turned to see Laura, Cora and Derek standing shivering in the coolness of the night. They were all dressed in their pyjamas, but as far as Peter could see, none of them was hurt. Laura and Cora were hugging each other, but Derek stepped forward, taking his uncle’s arm gently.

“Come on, Uncle Peter – come on!” Christopher Argent pulled his glove off, pushing with slightly more fervour as there was a whoomph! sound and the flames grew higher and the heat became more intense.

“Look, this really isn’t safe – “ Derek’s hand brushed against Christopher’s and a visible spark blew up between them, freezing the four of them in a shocked tableau.

“Oh hell to the fucking no!” Peter exclaimed, taking in the stunned look that Derek and Christopher were wearing. 

“I – “ Talia also seemed speechless, none of them even remotely prepared for this whilst the house literally burned down behind them. Peter was helpless, watching as Christopher Argent took his nephew’s hand in a tight grip, pulling him close and staring into his eyes. 

“This is fucking ridiculous!” Peter exclaimed, following as the two men moved away from the fire and towards where the girls were slowly realising that something huge had happened. 

“Peter – this is – “ 

“What the hell, Derek?” Laura said, mirroring Peter’s feelings. 

“I don’t – he’s my soul-match!” Derek said, his voice soft and surprised as he continued staring into Christopher’s eyes.

“He’s a god-damn hunter!”

“No – I don’t have anything to do with hunting,” Christopher said, turning to face Peter. “I didn’t – and don’t – agree with my family’s stance on hunting so I left. I wanted to do something worthwhile, something to help the community – that’s why I became a fire-fighter,” he explained in a soft but firm voice. That pinged something within Peter and he looked back at the house, seeing a bunch of strangers fighting tirelessly to save him home. 

They had no ties, knew next to nothing about the family that lived there – they were just doing their job, putting their lives in danger for people they knew they had no affiliation with. No agenda other than to protect and serve. **That** was something worthwhile, something to be proud of. A snap decision had never felt so good.

* * *

A snap decision had never felt like such an incredibly bad idea. 

Following Chris from the truck, Peter took a moment to take in just how bad this accident was. It looked like a four-wheeler had run the red light and simply ploughed into a powder-blue jeep, crushing the vehicle into something resembling a cube and creating complete and utter chaos. Other vehicles were scattered across the junction, many with walking wounded, cars totalled but with drivers and passengers lucky to be alive. There were ambulances from at least three hospitals on sight, dealing with the casualties as they were presented to them. 

His second week on the job after completing accelerated training and this one looked like it was going to be bad.

“In all the time I’ve known you, you never told me just how glamorous the job truly was,” Peter said to Christopher as they reached the Jeep. Six months after the fire that completely destroyed the main Hale house, and Peter and Chris had become fast friends. Peter insisted that he merely put up with Chris because he was his nephew’s soul-match and it made things easier to have someone to assist him in cheating on any firefighter examinations, but they had a lot in common. Chris was fiercely loyal and determined to do the right thing – Peter was fiercely loyal and determined to do the right thing _for his family_. 

His last task as a lawyer for his firm had been to sort out the required paperwork to ensure that Chris never had to have anything to do with the Argents ever again. Gerard had been attempting legal – and illegal – methods of bringing his son to heel, especially as Kate had been arrested and was awaiting trial for the arson attack on the Hales – but Peter had taken great delight in fucking the man over in as many ways as he could. It was going to take Gerard Argent _years_ to sort out the legal mess Peter had managed to get him into. 

Peter couldn’t understand why Derek and Chris were taking things slowly – Talia had been ecstatic upon finding out that her baby boy had not only found his soul-match but that Chris was more than happy to move in with the Hales. The two of them were building a house on the grounds themselves, using the time to get to know each other, and quite frankly they were sick-making. 

Talia, Cora and Laura had moved into one of the smaller buildings on the Hale grounds whilst the main house was demolished and rebuilt, and it was all a bit too _cosy_ for Peter’s liking. He had taken an apartment in a warehouse in town, closer to his firefighting training (the excuse he had given Talia anyway) and immersed himself in training for his new role.

“Stick with me, Uncle Peter, and I’ll show you the good life!” Chris replied, grinning at Peter over his shoulder.

“Don’t call me Uncle Peter – it’s downright creepy since we’re the same age!” Peter retorted. They had reached the overturned Jeep and put down their equipment to enable them to kneel and assess the situation. The driver was upside down held by his seatbelt (thank fuck he’d been wearing it!) and appeared to be unconscious. He didn’t look to have been rammed too far into the dashboard, his legs appearing to be free and there was no sign of external bleeding that Peter could sense. 

The heartbeat that came from within the car had a strange stutter to it and the irregularity caught Peter’s attention.

“Heart doesn’t sound good,” he murmured to Chris,  
assessing the door on the driver’s side. It was smashed in, the handle completely destroyed and he decided the best thing to do would be to just pull the door off. “I’m gonna pull off the door,” he said to Chris.

“Sounds good – let me get the bed ready for him, as well as a neck brace,” Chris replied, turning away.

Peter put his hand through the broken window to get a good grip on the door, then gave a solid yank. He overestimated the strength needed and the door flew off the vehicle and flew off behind him, landing with a solid thunk on the road. 

“Sorry!” he said hastily over his shoulder, hoping he hadn’t hit anyone with the door. “Right, let’s have a look at you then!” He didn’t immediately go to the seatbelt restraining his patient as he didn’t want the man to land on his head once it was released. The man was young – mid-twenties, with pale skin, dotted with silky-brown moles. Long lashes rested on his cheeks and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was upside down in an overturned vehicle, he would have looked quite serene.

“Any paperwork visible?” he asked Chris, pulling off the beanie the man was wearing and trying to see if there were any visible wounds on his head. 

“Not that I can see,” Chris replied. The dashboard is squished so can’t reach in for licence or registration – this thing must be built like a tank to survive that smash,” Chris continued.

“The joy of older vehicles – they might not look as pretty but damn, they were built to last,” Peter said. “Okay, I think the best thing is to turn the vehicle over – I don’t want him landing on his head if I undo the seatbelt.”

“Makes sense – I’ll get the LEOs to move back any bystanders.” Peter ripped off his yellow jacket and slipped his braces off his shoulders before taking a deep breath and cracking his head from side to side. His beta shift took over easily, although he heard a couple of onlookers gasp and comment – despite the supernatural being known, there were still some people who had never really witnessed a shift. 

Stepping back to give himself room, he bent and gripped the roof of the car. As slowly as he could, he began to lift it, shifting it over as he did so until the Jeep was at a 45-degree angle. A quick look inside showed that the patient hadn’t awoken at the noise and Peter quickened his movements, becoming more concerned about the lack of reaction. 

True to his word, Christopher had made sure there was enough room around the vehicle for Peter to flip it over, and he did so efficiently, pleased when it didn’t overturn in the other direction. He changed back to his human form, slipping his braces back onto his shoulders. 

“Right – let’s get to him.” Moving around the Jeep, he reached in for the seatbelt, his cheek braced against the slowly moving chest of his patient. Once he was free, he leaned back, holding the man upright with his hand on his shoulder. “His heartbeat is slowing and he looks pale considering he’s just been upside down. Make sure one of the buses is ready for him,” he said to Chris. He unzipped the red hoody, shaking his head when he had to yank open a black and white plaid shirt _and_ lift a graphic tee-shirt before he could reach skin. A mass of bruises was already coming up on the pale skin, and he placed his hand onto the man’s chest to assess for other injuries.

The spark that flew between them lit up the interior of the vehicle, momentarily blinding Peter as his entire body was infused with lights and sparks. His ears were ringing, everything within him on alert as his body registered that this was his mate! From outside the vehicle, he heard Christopher shout “Fuck, it’s going to blow!” before he realised that the spark had been so strong that it had actually ignited the fuel tank. 

He grabbed his soul-match’s body – **his soul-match**! – and pulled him out of the vehicle, stumbling away from the vehicle as quickly as he could. The explosion was so big, it knocked him off his feet, and he rolled as he fell, holding his soul-match safe against his chest as he landed. He felt his head strike the ground and that was the last he knew.

* * *


	2. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Peter is getting a little frustrated....
> 
> * * *

Derek turned when the hospital door opened, a tired smile crossing his face when he saw that it was Chris bearing what smelled like hot chocolate. Chris walked directly to him, leaning down and giving him a gentle kiss on the lips before handing him one of the cups.

“Has he woken up yet?”

“No, not yet. Mom said he’s fine – just a bit too hard a knock to the head. But I wanted to make sure he had pack around him even while he was out for the count,” Derek replied, sniffing at his drink appreciatively.

Chris dragged one of the other chairs over so that he could sit next to Derek, then they both looked at Peter in silence for a while. 

“Do they know what set off the fire?” Derek asked, shifting his foot so that it was pressed against Chris’s. 

“Not yet – everything was a bit insane there for a while but the Inspector is looking into it. Maybe Peter will be able to give us some information when he wakes up,” Chris replied, dropping his hand to rest on Derek’s thigh.

“Any news on the guy Peter saved?”

“He’s in a coma I believe. To be honest, everyone injured on scene got taken to so many different hospitals, it’s hard to figure out who’s who. Doesn’t help that we couldn’t get any documentation out of the car before it went up in flames,” Chris said, his hand sliding from side to side on Derek’s thigh and distracting him from his questions.

“Well, I hope he isn’t some complete douchebag – it would suck if Peter got hurt helping someone who didn’t deserve it,” Derek grumbled, shifting sideways to give Chris better access. The two of them rarely got to spend time together alone – the carriage-house was cramped with the five of them sleeping there, and the building of their own house seemed to be taking far too long. Derek was all for taking things slow, but this was beginning to feel glacial.

“Nature of the job – its not always the most deserving we end up helping,” Chris replied, leaning down to put his cup of finished hot chocolate onto the ground next to the leg of his chair. He reached out and took Derek’s cup from his unresisting fingers, placing it on the floor before turning to face Derek fully. “Peter did a really good job – once the captain has finished roasting him, he’ll probably get a commendation,” Chris continued, one finger tracing Derek’s eyebrows in a move that Derek found endearing. 

“That’ll just make him more insufferable,” Derek said, his arms reaching around Chris’s waist. “Can I ask something?”

“Sure.”

“Why are we talking about Peter when we could be – doing more interesting things?” Derek leaned forward and kissed Chris, tasting the hot chocolate he’d just consumed as well as a hint of mint. 

“Ah, well – I wasn’t sure if you’d think I was a dick if all I wanted to do is make out with you when you’re uncle is lying there in a healing coma,” Chris replied with a smile, kissing Derek back and pressing a little harder.

“Uncle Peter is a major dick anyway – I’m sure he’d understand!” He pulled on Chris until he got to his feet and he could kiss him properly, the chairs no longer in the way. He loved the way Chris kissed him – like he needed Derek more than air, urgent and almost desperate. Everything about Chris pleased him: the firmness of his back beneath Derek’s hands; his scent that retained a hint of smoke from his job but also the crisp fresh air that Derek associated with the Preserve; the tight grip he took on Derek’s face so that he could hold him where he wanted for the kiss; the urgency of his tongue as it delved between Derek’s lips and tasted him. 

The kisses became more urgent, Chris’s hands sliding from Derek’s face to his neck, their groins pressed tightly together, breath loud in the quietness of the night.

“Oh God, I’m lying here half dead, and you two are trying to eat each other! What does a guy have to do to get away from your disgustingly sweet romance?”

“Uncle Peter!” Derek pulled away from Chris’s arms and leaned over his uncle, relief rushing through him as he took in how clear the familiar blue eyes were. “We were so worried about you!”

“Speak for yourself – I knew he was doing it for attention!” Chris said, reaching out and grabbing Peter’s hand and squeezing it. 

“It’s not my fault I’m a natural-born hero, Christopher,” Peter said, his voice only a little croaky. 

“Yeah, or a natural-born idiot!” Chris retorted before taking his seat again. “I better call the doctor.”

“No – not yet. Let me get used to being awake again first please,” Peter protested. “Doctors have a tendency to use any opportunity that a supernatural is within their grasp to run lots of tests.”

“That’s true,” Derek said, remaining close to his uncle and quietly assessing his health. He seemed fine – his Mom had been right, he had just needed a healing sleep.

“What the hell happened anyway?”

“We were kinda hoping you could answer that,” Chris replied. “You were getting the patient out of the vehicle when there was some kind of spark and – “

“Holy shit! Yes – he was my match!”

“What?”

“The guy – the patient – he was my soul-match! I touched his chest and a fucking huge spark went off and – “

“Peter – are you sure? It could have been something else – “

“No, seriously – I can feel him – in my chest! Like a string or something? It’s like a pack bond but – more intimate, personal,” Peter protested, struggling to sit up. Derek operated the bed mechanism to lift the head part so that Peter was sitting upright. “Where is he? Is he okay? What happened – “

“Calm down, Peter!” Chris said, getting up and moving to the wall to press the button that called for the medical staff. “Let’s get you checked out and then we can find out where your guy went and how he is.”

“What do you mean, where he went?” 

“You know how many people were injured and ferried off to hospitals? This may not be as simple as you hope to track the guy down,” Chris replied gently. 

Nodding, Peter turned to Derek. “Can you call your mother please?” He obviously wanted to get out of the hospital as soon as possible. 

“Sure thing,” Derek replied, turning away from the bed and taking his cell out of his pocket. His mother’s cell barely rang before she answered and Derek could tell from her voice that she hadn’t been asleep. “Uncle Peter’s awake and get this – the guy in the car was his Soul-match!”

* * *

The Sheriff’s department receptionist was about to be mauled. And Peter would be completely justified.

“What do you mean, you can’t release that information?”

“I’m sorry, sir, as I’ve explained to you several times now – I’m not permitted to release information about _any_ of the vehicles in the impound yard,” the receptionist replied, beginning to look slightly fearful.

“I just want to know who it belongs to – is that too much to ask?”

“Well – yeah, it is,” the little shit replied and Peter growled beneath his breath. Derek tugged on his arm, pulling him away from the desk and stepping forward.

“Look – Officer Greenberg is it? All we want to know is – “

“I know what you want to know!” Derek smiled despite Greenberg’s whiny tone and Peter marvelled at his nephew’s ability not to simply jump over the desk and rip out his throat. 

“We’re with the Fire Department – “

“Oh, well why didn’t you just say so!” Greenberg smiled back at Derek and took a book out from beneath the desk, flipping pages until he reached the right spot. “It’s signed in under the Sheriff because it’s under investigation because of the accident.”

“The Sheriff?” Derek asked.

“Yep – Sheriff Stilinski. It’ll be released once they’ve gone over whatever evidence they can find – not that it’ll be much, I mean that thing is _completely_ crushed!” Greenberg said with what Peter felt was unnecessary relish.

“Well, thank you so much Officer Greenberg, and you have a great day,” Derek said, turning and tugging Peter out of the reception area. He did manage to send Greenberg a glowing-blue glare before he was once more out in the sunshine. “Well that was a bit of a bust,” Derek continued, moving towards the parking lot. “Sorry, Uncle Peter.”

“Not your fault, nephew,” Peter managed to reply, restraining himself from throwing an epic tantrum. Ever since his release from the hospital – whilst on mandatory leave from the fire station – he had been trying to track down his soul-match and this was just another in a long string of disappointments. 

Firstly, they had been unable to track down which hospital he’d been sent to – the receptionist at the Cannock Creek hospital had been a fiery, evil hag who had sarcastically asked if Peter would like her to examine **every** patient within the hospital on the off-chance that they were who he was looking for. It hadn’t helped that they’d been unable to describe his injuries – there had been no external marks as far as Peter could recall, and the description of a young male, mid-twenties, with brown hair and pale skin, had garnered several disbelieving looks from staff trying to assist them. 

“Somebody has to know _something_ ,” Peter said, reaching the car and unlocking it before remembering that he still wasn’t allowed to drive. It was ridiculous – he was a werewolf for God’s sake! He was physically and mentally fine, and this mandatory health shit was completely unnecessary.

“We haven’t exhausted everything just yet,” Derek said, cheerfully climbing into the driving seat of the Cobra. Peter gave his nephew a dark look, knowing that he was enjoying driving his car far too much. He walked around the vehicle and climbed into the passenger seat, doing up his seatbelt whilst grumbling under his breath. “What did your captain say?”

“He said that it was an ongoing investigation and I wasn’t allowed to look through the files. Christopher hasn’t managed to sneak a look either,” Peter said, watching as his nephew expertly navigated the small parking lot and merged with ongoing traffic. “All I want is a name – “

“You have to remember, some people don’t want to find their soul-match,” Derek said, giving his uncle what felt like a pitying look. “I mean, he must have felt it too but there have been no enquiries at the fire station. I know that’s not what you want to hear, Uncle Peter, but maybe – “

“Just shut up and drive, Derek!” Peter said, staring gloomily out of the window and wondering what his next move should be.

* * *

”I’m glad you’re getting out of here,” Noah Stilinski said, watching as his son packed his small bag. Stiles was moving stiffly but otherwise appeared fine, although there was obviously something on his mind. “What’s up kiddo?”

“Hmm? Oh nothing,” Stiles replied, the tips of his ears going pink in a tell-tale sign that he wasn’t being quite truthful. Noah would never tell Stiles about his ‘tell’, simply because it was hard enough keeping up with Stiles at the best of times. He’d find a way to get around it and then his Dad wouldn’t have that very useful weapon in his arsenal. 

“Stiles – if you’re not feeling well, if there’s something – “

“No! Oh, no, I’m good – all ship-shape and ready to get out of here,” Stiles replied, scratching his head. His hair had grown out a little whilst he’d been in a coma following the accident and he looked a little shaggy, what Noah thought of as his scrubby little beard having filled in. “I just – “

“What is it, Stiles?” Noah sat next to the bed, glad that this would be the last time he would have to sit at his son’s hospital bedside. The shock of seeing Stiles’ Jeep in a crumpled heap at the scene of the accident had almost given Noah a heart attack, the flames being put out by one of the fire trucks. One of the firemen had grabbed Stiles out of the vehicle just before it exploded, saving his life, and Noah had resolved to find the man and thank him personally.

“Do you know if – do we know what started the fire? I’ve heard bits of gossip – that a spark caught?” Stiles refused to meet his gaze, playing with the clothes at the top of his bag.

“You think this was your fault?”

“No – I mean, maybe?”

“Stiles, you have more control over your Spark then a good 90% of the sparks in California! I really don’t think you should be blaming yourself for something that happened when you were unconscious! Besides, what could have set it off?”

“I don’t know. There was – I felt something while I was unconscious – someone’s touch – “ Noah sat straighter, realising what was bothering his son.

“You think it was your soul-match?”

“I dunno. I mean, the whole time I’ve been in hospital, I’ve been touched by **so** many people! I am seriously beginning to feel all touched out! But none of them has made me feel that again – maybe I imagined it,” Stiles replied, looking glum.

“I guess there have been a lot of people involved in your treatment. It would be difficult to track them all down, but it’s not impossible,” Noah said, thinking hard. “You’d maybe have to do a list – people at the scene – “

“Trauma doctors and nurses – “

“Radiologists – “

“Anyone who took my blood – “

“Nurses taking your stats,” Noah continued, realising the scale of what was ahead of them. Stiles slumped onto the bed, rubbing his face wearily and Noah decided that now was not the time, especially given Stiles’ propensity for going off on research binges. It was what made him an excellent FBI consultant, especially when it came to leaps of intuition, but it wasn’t conducive to recovering from a life-threatening car accident. “We can start looking into it when we get home,” he said, getting to his feet and zipping up Stiles’ bag. 

“But Dad – “

“A few hours sleep won’t hurt, Stiles – you look like shit kiddo and you scared your old Dad,” Noah said, knowing that if Stiles thought he’d worried Noah he’d be more likely to listen.

“Fine, fine – maybe some food and then a bit of sleep. But no take-out – I can only imagine what you’ve been living on since I’ve been in the hospital!” Stiles said, heading towards the door.

“I swear, nothing but salad has passed these lips – “ Noah began, appreciating the laugh Stiles gave.

“Careful, Daddio, there’s a bolt of lightning with your name on it heading this way if you keep up those lies!”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, when they say you might feel a little achy and under the weather after the jab, they're not joking! I'm sneezing, coughing and feel like someone has beaten me (lightly) all over! Saying that, I wanted to work on this chapter as it's my writing day over on 1 million words! I don't think I'm gonna be writing any more today, but you never know! xx


	3. Running in Circles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is getting nowhere fast...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this idiot fell over a few times over the weekend so I'm covered in bruises and feeling like I've been in the wars. Typing hurts my wrists and fingers (that's what I get for trying to break my fall), so not as many words as originally planned!

Twirling a fallen strand of hair around her finger, Lydia watched as Stiles worked on his board. He was swiping through names and muttering under his breath, clearly agitated. She was half surprised he’d taken the time for a haircut and shave – he could get obsessive when he was on one of his ‘information digs’.

“Should I ask what you’re doing?” she finally asked, sitting up on the bed so that she had a clearer view.

“I’ve been eliminating people from my list but it’s so damned frustrating – having to track them down, meet with them, shake hands – this is such a waste of time!” Stiles threw his marker down and turned towards her. “There are just too many people to eliminate!”

“Why are you starting backwards?”

“Huh?”

“Why aren’t you starting at the scene of the accident? I mean, it makes sense that you would go forward from there rather than backwards. If you felt it while you were unconscious, it could have happened while you were there,” she said reasonably.

“I guess – I mean, there were firefighters there and apparently one of them got me out of the Jeep and saved my life,” Stiles replied, his face twisted in thought. “But I was trying to narrow it down to people who touched skin – why would a firefighter need to touch skin?”

“I don’t know – maybe to check your vitals on the scene maybe?” She climbed to her feet, looking around for her sandals. “This was not quite how I envisaged your break from work turning out.”

“Sorry, Lyds, this should have been a lot more fun. Hey, do you want to come with me to a garage? I need to find out if they can fix up the Jeep for me?”

“You’re going to repair it?”

“Well, yeah. The other guy’s insurance is paying for it and you know it has sentimental value. If this guy I’ve heard about can do it, hell yes, I’m getting it done.”

“Who’s the guy?”

“Hale Mechanics – apparently he works wonders with his hands,” Stiles said, waggling his eyebrows comically.

“Is he at least pretty? If I’m going to spend time talking cars, I’d like some eye candy,” she replied, shoving her feet into her sandals and making sure the bun on the top of her head was secure.

“I don’t know, but he’s a wolf and most of them seem to be built _and_ pretty so probably!” Stiles replied. 

“Speaking of the Hales, are you going to their Soul Meet at the end of the week?” she asked as they made their way downstairs, Stiles grabbing his hoody from the coat-rack as they headed towards the front door.

“I don’t know – what’s the point? I mean, if my soul-match wanted to find me I was kinda in one place for a while. Is he – or she – likely to b e at a meet?”

“Good point. But come anyway – you can keep me company,” she said, waiting as Stiles checked that the door was locked. 

“I didn’t think you wanted to find your soul-match – that they’d get in the way of your work,” Stiles said as they walked to her car.

“It’s good networking – and if I happen to meet them, well, if they’re my real soul-match then they won’t want to get in my way will they?”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Stiles said, climbing into the passenger side of her car, his movements only a little stiff.

“You seem better,” Lydia noted, putting on her seatbelt and starting the car. “Not so stiff.”

“I think my spark may have helped a little. From what Dad has told me, the Jeep was damn near totalled and I shouldn’t be alive,” Stiles said, looking pensive. “Actually, Dad said he wanted to visit the Hales – apparently one of them was the guy who got me out of the car.”

“Two birds with one stone – excellent!”

* * *

”Thanks for fitting me in, Derek, I know how busy you are,” Peter said, walking back to the Cobra. 

“No worries – you know how much I like working on your car!” Derek said, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. “Just bring it in next time you’re on shift and I’ll give her the once over.”

“Excellent,” Peter said, unlocking the car. 

“Have you found anything else out?”

“Not really. I have a few feelers out at the hospitals and I’m hopeful that whenever the car is claimed by its owner, the Sheriff’s department will let me know,” Peter replied, looking a little downcast. Derek wished there was more that he could do, but he couldn’t think of an avenue that Peter hadn’t already tried. 

“You coming to Mom’s Soul-Meet?” he asked and Peter nodded.

“Yes, I promised your mother I would put in an appearance, especially as I’m not on shift. I would imagine she wants to show you and Christopher off, and perhaps give Laura an opportunity to shake the hand of some prospective candidates,” Peter replied.

They both turned to see a Honda Civic drive onto the forecourt, and Peter gave Derek a wave. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, climbing into the car and starting the engine. Derek watched as his Uncle drove out off the forecourt, then turned to face the young couple coming towards him. 

“Hi – how can I help you?”

“Sweet ride,” the man said, his attention on the Cobra as it left and Derek smiled.

“Yeah – my uncle has expensive taste in cars!” 

“Men and their toys,” the woman said before smiling at Derek. “This one would like you to perform a miracle. His Jeep is near death and he was hoping you could resuscitate it.”

“Near death might be an overstatement – it’s a little crumpled and I heard you were the best mechanic in Beacon Hills,” the guy said before holding out his hand. “My names Stiles.”

“Derek – nice to meet you,” Derek replied, shaking his hand briefly. Stiles pinged on his radar but Derek wasn’t sure why – it was a little like when pack members were nearby but it made little sense. The woman, on the other hand, gave off a dark aura and Derek was pretty sure she was a wailing woman. “Come on through to the office and you can tell me all about your car’s near death experience.” 

The two of them followed him to the office and he pulled out a few forms. 

“Okay, I need to know what sort of damage we’re talking about and what you want done about it,” he said, taking a seat behind the desk. 

“It’s a bit difficult to tell you about the damage as the car isn’t actually in my possession at the moment,” Stiles said with a grin. 

“Not in your possession? Did the insurer’s take it away or – “

“No, the car’s actually – “

“Hey Derek, can you come out here and help me with this?” Boyd’s voice interrupted what Stiles was going to say and Derek gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry – I won’t be long.” He walked back out to the workshop and could see immediately why Boyd had called him. Adrian Harris was a pain in the ass and no one ever wanted to deal with him when he came into the garage. “Yeah, fine,” he said to Boyd, giving him a look. “Can you handle the couple in the office? They want their car repaired once they get it back.”

“Sure thing,” Boyd replied, giving Harris an utterly false smile of regret. “Sorry, Mr Harris, Derek will help you out with your enquiries regarding the bill.” 

Cursing Boyd to hell and back, Derek forced a smile onto his face and walked over to Harris. 

“So, Adrian,” he said, deliberately using his former teacher’s first name as he knew it irritated him no end,”how can I help you this time?”

* * *

”Good news, the main house will be ready for us to move back into by Friday!” Talia said, smiling at her children seated around the table.

“Oh thank Christ!” Laura said. “If I have to listen to Derek and Chris moaning and groaning for much longer, I was going to start putting bromide in their tea!”

“LAURA!”

“Hey!”

“I haven’t heard them,” Cora said, chewing at a slice of bread and looking at her brother with interest. “I didn’t realise things were getting hot and heavy between you two.” Derek blushed fire engine red and turned to his mother.

“Can’t you do something about these two?”

“What would you have me do, darling? Once you all turned 18, I lost all ability to instil further manners – it’s a constant burden!” Talia replied.

“I just don’t think they should be commenting on the – _lives_ of family members at the dinner table!” Derek spluttered, ignoring Laura who was cackling down the other end of the table.

“I take that to mean things haven’t gone the whole hog then!” Laura said, making Derek splutter again. “Waiting until we’re all out of earshot?”

“Mother!”

“Laura, must you embarrass your brother so? Besides, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Derek and Chris taking things slowly.”

“Oh my God, you’re just as bad as she is!” Derek complained.

“I don’t see why you’re waiting. I mean, a soul-match is like being married – you might as well get groiny and enjoy yourself,” Cora said, and Derek pushed his chair back abruptly, getting to his feet and leaning over the table towards his sister.

“Looking forward to the Soul Meet this weekend Cora?” he said with a sly smile and she scowled at him.

“I have no intention of shaking hands with anyone this weekend – I’m quite happy running around and sowing my wild oats thanks ever so!” she replied, sticking her tongue out at Derek. 

“I really didn’t need to see what you’re eating, sweetheart,” Talia admonished her. “Sit down, Derek. Besides, _everyone_ is going to be there this weekend – am I understood? People look forward to these events – yes they do, so take that look off your face Cora – and it’s a beautiful thing to see Soul-Matches being made in front of us! I know the manner in which it happened was awful, but I’m grateful for Christopher coming into our lives!”

“I think I’m gonna hurl!” Laura said and Cora made fake retching noises.

“You won’t be saying that if you **do** meet your match!” Talia said and Derek took his seat again. “There are people coming from a few counties over – I believe Satomi is sending some of her new betas along. It could be very exciting if you would let it.”

“Yes mother,” Cora said, whilst shaking her head. 

“Where is Christopher anyway?” Talia asked, changing the subject.

“He’s on shift with Peter – I’m meeting him later,” Derek replied. 

“I do wish Peter was having more success finding that young man,” Talia said. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to have actually met your soul-match but not to be able to find them.”

“Yeah, it completely sucks,” Derek said. The four of them ate in silence for a few moments.

“Maybe the party on Saturday will cheer him up,” Talia said and Derek nodded, ignoring the disbelieving looks from his sisters. Sometimes his mother could be quite oblivious to things. Peter was morose and snappy, and a party wasn’t going to change his mood. Maybe he could get Chris to talk to the Sheriff, release the information on the car’s owner – the investigation must be reaching an end by now. “Anything interesting happen at work?” Talia asked.

“Actually, yeah, I got a good job that’s coming in shortly. This young couple – Boyd took the details but it sounds like a complete revamp of an old car. Should be fun,” Derek said.

“Anyone we know?”

“No, I didn’t recognise them. They’re about Cora’s age – the guy’s name was Stiles and his girlfriend was called Lydia I think.”

“Lydia and Stiles? I didn’t realise they’d gotten together,” Cora said. “He was madly in love with her all through high school – verging on the stalker-like – but then he left town to work for the FBI and she went off to do some genius maths stuff I think.”

“Well, I think they were together,” Derek said. “They smelled like each other and everything.”

“Shame – I kinda liked Lydia,” Cora replied. “Even if she wasn’t my soul match, I would have liked to spend some time with her.”

“Yeah, she seemed just like your type to be fair!”

* * *


	4. Soul Meets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone was looking forward to the Soul-Meet - well apart from Peter and Stiles...
> 
> * * *

The day had been a litany of fuck ups so far and Peter decided that there was no way he was going to Talia’s Soul Meet – he just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing thirty billion happy people while he was more miserable than Adrian Harris. It just wasn’t happening.

The first disaster was that he slept through his alarm clock, which meant that he was too late to get his favourite croissants from the little patisserie on the corner. They always sold out incredibly early and he normally took a slightly savage satisfaction in eating one straight from the bag in front of people who had arrived just a little too late.

The second disaster was that his fabulous, complicated coffee maker decided it was time to meet its demise, which meant he was stuck with low-grade instant coffee that offended him on a level never before reached.

Then while he was getting dressed, grumbling at the lack of caffeine, he ripped through the sleeves of his favourite black vee-neck – too much time working out his frustrations in the gym since he couldn’t find he-who-should-not-be-discussed-unless-you-wanted-a-fist-in-the-face – which meant that he was forced to wear his _second_ favourite black vee-neck which felt itchy and uncomfortable against his sensitive nipples.

_Then_ he got a phone call from his ‘in’ at the Sheriff’s department and he hurried down there, only to be greeted by the moronic receptionist from his previous visit.

“What do you mean, you can’t tell me who it was signed out to?”

“I’ve told you, sir, I am not at liberty to – “

“Don’t give me that bullshit! You told my nephew the other day – “

“I have no recollection of your nephew, but I categorically cannot tell you who signed out the vehicle you’re querying. Now, if you would like to fill in the required paperwork and get appropriate signatures – “

“And just how long would that take?” Peter asked impatiently.

“Approximate six to eight weeks depending on our workload sir,” the man, Greenberg replied with a slight smirk. 

“Do you realise I could eviscerate you before you could press your little alarm button?” Peter said menacingly, pleased when Greenberg paled beneath his regard. 

Being ejected from the police station by three deputies who he may or may not have humiliated on the witness stand during his time as a lawyer just made his day that little bit worse.

* * *

”Are all werewolves insanely attractive or is it something in the bite?” Stiles asked Erica as she filled in the paperwork for the Jeep.

“Why thank you – you’re not so bad yourself! Although you might want to be a little careful with the flirting – that big hunk of loveliness behind you is my boyfriend, Boyd who will be working on your car, and don’t look now, but your girlfriend looks like she might want to take a few chunks out of me!”

“That wasn’t flirting! You’d know if I was flirting with you – it’s far more awkward and involves a lot more flailing!” he replied, grinning. “Besides, Lydia isn’t my girlfriend – she just looks like that because we were too late to get the croissants she likes so much from the patisserie.”

“Good to know! And to answer your question, no the bite doesn’t affect how pretty I am – that’s _all_ me! So – looks like everything has been filled in. Gotta tell ya, Batman, I’m not sure we’re gonna be able to repair the bat-mobile – whatever the hell happened to it pretty much killed it stone dead!”

“Yeah, I thought that when I finally got to see it, but I heard you guys are miracle-workers so figured it was worth a go. If it’s not fixable, I shall give it a decent burial and see about another vehicle. Especially now I’m going to be satellite working from Beacon Hills – I didn’t really need a car for work when I was in Seattle.”

“Fingers crossed for you then. Will we be seeing you at the Soul Meet?” she asked and Stiles shook his head ruefully. It was _literally_ all anyone was talking about and he was a little fed up with hearing about it. He could understand their excitement but his was dampened by his complete and utter lack of success in tracking down the person who had set off his spark so spectacularly.

“I don’t know if – “

“He’s going! He promised to be my escort for the day,” Lydia chimed in and Stiles sighed, knowing he stood absolutely no chance of not attending the Soul Meet now. 

“Yes, it would appear that I will definitely be there,” he said to Erica who was barely stifling her giggles. 

“Then we’ll fill you in on your vehicle’s chances of resuscitation then!”

“Thanks Erica,” he replied, nodding at the silently watching Boyd before following Lydia out to her vehicle. “I do appreciate you driving me around,” he said as they settled into her car.

“Why do I sense a but in there?” she said, starting the car and pulling off the forecourt. 

“This Soul Meet – “

“Stiles! You promised me that you’d come along as my escort!”

“I know but – “

“I’ve helped you with your project – got people to shake your hand who, to be completely honest, have looked at you like you’re completely insane!”

“Yes, but – “

“I’ve put up with the fact that you haven’t shaved in days and your hair looks a lot like a haystack! And all I’ve asked is this teeny, weeny, little favour!”

“Teeny, weeny?”

“Yes! And it’s your fault we missed the patisserie this morning, so this is the absolute least you can do!” she finished. “Besides, we’re meeting your Dad there. Don’t you want to thank whatever hunky fireman who dragged you out of a blazing vehicle?”

“Oh yeah, sure, I’d love to – especially if he just so happens to be my soul-match! I mean – the chances of that happening are downright astronomical!” he replied, then turned to look at Lydia. “Are you trying to calculate the odds in your head?”

“No!” she denied, blushing. 

Having caught her out was enough to put him into a good mood all the way out to the Hale Mansion. They were a little early, but he could see his father’s work car parked amongst a set of _very_ nice vehicles and he made a side-note to have a wander around them later. Lydia grabbed the basket of goodies she had procured from the patisserie, having insisted that even if the Hales always catered these events, she wasn’t turning up without anything to offer her host, and they made their way around the back of the house.

“Hey Dad!” Stiles said, spotting his father almost immediately. There weren’t many people already there and he vaguely recognised a couple of them. About to make his way over to where he could see Talia Hale arranging things on one of the tables to politely greet his host, he noticed his father was gesturing him over to where he was stood with Derek Hale.

“Stiles! I wanted you to be here for this! I just wanted to say thank you so much for what you did for my son!” Noah said, grabbing Derek by the hand and shaking it effusively.

“I haven’t actually _done_ anything as yet – “ Derek began but Noah interrupted him.

“I know you guys always try to shrug off any thanks, but as a parent can I just say how grateful I am that you were there on the day of the accident and pulled Stiles from the wreckage.”

“Dad – “

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding, Sheriff!” Derek looked puzzled but then Stiles noticed the tee-shirt he was wearing. 

“Dad – this is _Derek_ Hale – he owns the garage I’ve taken the Jeep to!”

“But the tee-shirt – “

“Belongs to me,” Chris Argent appeared at Derek’s side, wrapping his arm around his waist possessively. “I work for the Beacon Hills Fire Department and Derek just happens to be wearing one of my shirts,” Chris continued.

“God, I am so sorry! I knew one of the Hales worked within the fire department and I wanted to express my thanks – “

“Oh Sheriff, it’s fine – easy mistake to make!” 

“Besides, Derek is going to fix Roscoe up like he’s brand new – aren’t you Derek?”

“I’m really hoping Roscoe is your car!” Derek said, smiling back at Stiles. 

“Yes! It was his mother’s before she passed away and Stiles has been utterly inconsolable since it was wrecked. Well, that and a few other things,” the Sheriff said. 

“What wreck?” Christopher asked absently, offering Derek a beer.

“Oh, I was in that huge – “

“Oh my God, Lydia!” They all turned at the shout to see Cora holding Lydia’s hand, the two women staring at each other in wonder. It was obvious a Soul-Match had occurred, the women grinning at each other and clinging to each other’s hand. It was a weird phenomenon that it wasn’t until people were over eighteen that the ‘spark’ of a Soul-Match existed, and there had been research into how sometimes people found that they were matched to their best friends and didn’t find out until after their respective birthdays.

“My baby!” Talia cried out, rushing over to the two of them and engulfing them in a hug.

“Well, that should keep Mom happy for a few hours at least!” Derek muttered, and the men laughed. The next half an hour was taken up with rounds of hugs and congratulations, Talia bringing out a special bottle of champagne as well as other forms of alcohol. Stiles found the time to give Lydia a shit-eating grin but she ignored it, the smile on her face letting him know that although she hadn’t expected this, she was more than happy with it. 

Standing to one side sipping at a glass of champagne, Stiles enjoyed people watching as more guests arrived, joining in the celebrations as they did so. A late-comer caught his eye, and he watched as the man made his way through the small crowd to Derek.

“Derek – I was hoping you could help me!” he said, pulling the other man into a quick scenting that marked them as pack.

“Uncle Peter! Cora found her Soul-Match!” 

“That’s – marvellous for her,” Peter said, brushing the subject aside. “I’ve just come from the station and that vehicle has been released but the idiot behind the desk wouldn’t tell me to whom or where it was sent! Then I realised with the sheer amount of damage it sustained that they would most likely send it to your place and – “

“You’re the fireman!” said the Sheriff, appearing at Derek’s side, his jovial attitude no doubt enhanced by the amount of alcohol that was generally being consumed. 

“I am, indeed – pleased to meet you Sheriff Stilinski,” Peter replied. His voice was smooth yet husky, the tenor sending small vibrations through Stiles’ chest that made him rub absent-mindedly over his heart. And Peter Hale reinforced the idea that werewolves were all supernaturally beautiful: high cheekbones, striking blue eyes, a thick neck and a strong looking body. Exactly Stiles’ type if he wasn’t stuck on the idea of finding his god-damned Soul-Match.

“I wanted to thank you! I understand you were the one to pull my son – “

“You’re welcome, Sheriff – I’m sorry, would you mind if I spoke to Derek for a moment?” Peter interrupted, obviously intent on speaking to his nephew. 

“Of course,” Noah said, stepping back slightly.

“Jesus, I’m an idiot!” Derek appeared stunned, looking between the Sheriff and Peter in a way that had all of Stiles’ senses on alert. He turned to the Sheriff, his face intent. “ _You_ had the vehicle signed into the impound lot!”

“What?”

“Yes, we already know that Derek but – “

“No, you don’t understand! Peter – it’s him!” Derek turned and pointed at Stiles and he felt like a deer in headlights, everyone’s attention on him. Peter was staring at him, his eyes glowing blue, his body tense. Peter began to walk towards him and Stiles barely resisted the urge to step back at such intense regard focused solely on him. 

“Er – hi?”

“You!” Peter stepped towards Stiles as if he was in a dream, his hands outstretched. “I have been searching all over the nearest four counties for you!” 

“Okay! Should I know you or – “ Peter grabbed his hand before Stiles could back away and there was an explosion of sparks and lights before Stiles found himself blown backwards and landing on the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of his body!

* * *


	5. Flame-on!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Peter finally get together!
> 
> * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking a chance on this little WiP! No real smut (sorry, maybe next time), but my Muse decreed that this story was finished for the time being! 
> 
> I'm always open to prompts, etc and I appreciate every one of you taking the time to read my stuff.
> 
> Love  
> Skar  
> x
> 
> * * *

“I don’t want to die – I’m too young and pretty!” Peter heard the words but couldn’t quite comprehend them.

“Is he delusional?” he asked the Sheriff who was leaning over Stiles from the other side.

“No – that’s just Stiles.”

“Right,” Peter replied, watching as mink brown eyes fluttered open and stared up into his own. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“My name is Peter Hale – just in case we get separated again.”

“Sound plan, dude.” Stiles held his hand up for assistance and Peter was about to take it when Talia grabbed him by the arm.

“Er, I think not! We’ve only just put the flames out on the begonias – three steps back please!” 

“Talia!”

“THREE! At least!” Stepping back, he watched as the Sheriff and Derek helped Stiles to his feet. His Soul Match was tall, lean but with broad shoulders. He well remembered the smooth, pale skin but now it was slightly sun-kissed, the moles not standing out as much. Stiles looked around, a little dazed but otherwise not appearing to be damaged by the ‘explosion’. 

“Well – I guess that explains what happened to my Jeep,” Stiles said ruefully, leaning against his father.

“Yes, it certainly does,” the Sheriff replied ruefully and the two shared a smile.

“Would you like to come into the house? We can get you an icepack for your head – and possibly have a little privacy?” Peter offered, realising that they were the centre of attention. It was understandable. As soon as they had touched, sparks literally flew and they had both been blown backwards by what could only be described as a mild explosion. By the time Peter got to his feet, Derek had returned from the house with a fire extinguisher and was putting out a small blaze amidst Talia’s flowers, and everyone was gathered around him and Stiles – Stiles? What kind of name was Stiles? – and just staring at them. 

Stiles seemed to realise that people were watching and blushed, nodding at Peter. 

“Lead the way,” he said and Peter turned to head towards the house. 

“No touching!” Talia warned and Peter scowled at his sister. 

“Don’t be silly – I sincerely doubt we’ll explode _every_ time we touch, and besides better it happen here than at my place!”

“PETER! We’ve literally only just had this place rebuilt!” she complained but he ignored her, threading his way through the crowd and moving towards the patio doors. He couldn’t stop himself checking over his shoulder now and then to ensure that Stiles was behind him, the ache that had been present in his chest ever since the accident had now turned into a subtle glow that he would have been embarrassed to describe to anyone but which felt extremely – _nice_! 

Once they had made their way to one of the living rooms, Peter realised he didn’t know what to say. He had spent so much time searching for Stiles that he hadn’t even considered what would happen when he found him! He certainly hadn’t expected that they would be quite so explosive!

“Oh – I said I would get you an icepack!” he said, turning to face Stiles who was looking around the room.

“No – thanks, I’m good dude,” Stiles replied, sounding shy. 

“I guess this wasn’t what you were expecting from meeting your Soul-Match,” Peter said, unable to resist moving closer. 

“Well – when I was going through literally **all** of the people who have touched me since the accident, and making a damned fool of myself trying to touch them subtly to find out if they were the one – nope, trying to blow you up wasn’t the first thing on my mind!” Stiles replied with a wry grin. “I can’t believe we blew up my damned Jeep!”

“That was unexpected to say the least! So – you’ve never had that before? The whole sparks thing when you touch someone?”

“Never in my lifetime! I’ve been through spark training, got it under control – this is the first time touching someone else has made it react like that,” he admitted, stepping closer to Peter. It felt like they were magnetised, unable to stop themselves from getting closer. “I guess that means we should be really careful – at least until I can talk to one of my mentors, figure out what it is about you that sends everything so crazy.”

“That would probably be the most sensible thing to do, And I will more than happily pay for the repairs to your Jeep – I get a family discount,” Peter replied, staring at Stiles’ mouth. He wondered what he tasted like? If he tasted anywhere as nice as he smelled – Peter wasn’t sure he could hold himself back from finding out now.

He held out his hand, fingers outstretched and Stiles looked into his face before nodding and reaching out with his own. Peter watched as a spark bounced from Stiles’ fingers to Peter’s, the heat warming his whole body, a deep sense of recognition flooding his system. Slowly, they brought their hands together, both of them gasping as the heat became more intense when they finally touched. 

“No explosion this time,” Stiles murmured, his eyes on their joined hands. 

“Well, we should test it a little further – don’t you think?” Peter asked, taking the final step to bring their bodies together. 

“I’m all for a little experimentation,” Stiles replied, lifting his other hand and resting it gently against Peter’s cheek. Peter was about to lean in when the door to the living room opened and Laura stomped in, making a big deal of not looking at them as she deposited a fire extinguisher by one of the chairs. 

Stiles was still grinning when Laura left again, slamming the door closed, and Peter couldn’t resist any longer. He cupped Stiles’ hand against his face and leaned in and kissed him. 

Soft, plush lips met his own, a whisper of a sigh from Stiles letting him know that he wasn’t alone in having needed this moment for what felt like forever. He pressed their mouths together a little firmer, sliding out his tongue to lick Stiles’ lips open before deepening the kiss as he pulled Stiles as close to him as he could. They kissed for long moments, tongues tangling, breathing becoming heavy. 

“Jesus, this should be illegal!” Stiles murmured against his lips, strong arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair. 

“I’ll look into that – I used to be a lawyer,” he said, not paying attention to Stiles’ words as he moved his face so that he could inhale his intoxicating scent, running his nose along the pale length of his neck before taking the lobe of his ear gently between his teeth. “I’m also a werewolf – in case you didn’t know.”

“That’s kinda cool – you’ll have to show me your shift – if that’s okay with you,” Stiles replied, arms moving from around his neck and coming around his waist, the strong fingers now digging deep into his back. 

“More than,” Peter said, groaning when Stiles’ hands slipped down to his ass. With the last of his will-power, he moved them both towards the nearest couch, falling back onto it and pulling Stiles on top of him until he was straddling his lap. 

“Smooth move, dude,” Stiles said admiringly, leaning back slightly and looking down at Peter. “Do you always wear your vee-necks so low? It’s a little distracting – all of that chest nearly on display.”

“This top is old and stretched out,” Peter explained, hands moving to grip Stiles’ hips. “Speaking of clothes, what would it take to get you out of yours?” He grinned when a spark shot from Stiles’ fingers, zinging along Peter’s collar bone with a pleasant sting to it.

“I might be far gone, but even I’m not stripping down with your and my family in the garden,” Stiles said, sliding his fingertips along the edge of the collar of Peter’s tee-shirt, the warmth of his skin enhanced by his spark. “And I live with my Dad – while I’m in Beacon Hills anyway – and I don’t fancy him coming home and finding us doing the do in my room!”

“Doing the do?” Peter repeated, his eyebrows rising. “Did you _really_ just call it, doing the do? How old are you?”

“Young enough for you to be my Sugar Daddy, old enough that you don’t have to worry about my Dad arresting you for defiling his baby boy!” Peter thrust his hips up involuntarily, liking the sound of that more than he could express. “Oh you like that? Please don’t say it’s the daddy thing because not really into that. But I could happily be your baby boy if that’s what you’re wanting,” Stiles said, leaning down and rubbing his cheek along Peter’s the rasp of their stubble meeting creating delicious friction.

“You like the idea of being my baby boy?” Peter said, moving his hands to Stiles’ back and massaging the lean muscles.

“If you say it in that voice, yes please!” Stiles shifted until he was able to press his mouth against Peter’s. “Or maybe you could growl it at me while you’re half-shifted – _that_ could definitely become a kink of mine!”

Peter wasn’t sure if the couch suddenly felt incredibly hot against his back because of the sparks flashing between them or simply because kissing Stiles got him all hot and bothered, but he didn’t give a shit. This was what he had been missing – the closeness, being surrounded by the scent of his Soul-Match, the reassuring weight of Stiles’ body on top of his own. He wanted more of that and he wanted it now, party be damned. 

“Let’s go to my place – I have any number of fire extinguishers and even better, no family to interrupt!” Clearly in agreement, Stiles climbed off him and he got up quickly, taking the hand that was offered to him. The spark that flared between them when they touched was rapidly growing familiar and he grinned, barely sparing a glance at the slightly smouldering outline of their bodies that seemed to have been scorched into the couch.

* * *

It took six months of intensive ‘touching’ before Peter and Stiles stopped leaving scorch marks behind them wherever they went together, including some rather embarrassing outlines on Stiles’ childhood bed when they were interrupted by the Sheriff allegedly packing Stiles’ things up for his move to Peter’s apartment.

The teasing about Peter needing to wear flame-retardant clothing only stopped when Laura met her Soul-Match, Jordan Parrish, and accidentally made him ‘flame on’ as a hell-hound in the middle of a Beacon Hills Sheriff Department BBQ by brushing against him as she walked by.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I had my first Covid jab this morning - lovely, efficient nurse, minimal pain - 10/10, would recommend!
> 
> Stay safe, stay well and stay kind  
> Skargasm  
> x


End file.
